Prompt response based on the word of the day ~ January 2017 ~ HORN



Image courtesy of pixabay.com

A Hard Horned Goodbye.

by John Yeo

   William was trapped by the horns of a dilemma. Mother was terminally ill and in terrible pain. He was shocked and annoyed: there wasn’t any way out. Mother was enduring slowly progressive levels of pain. The hospital staff were administering the strongest levels of pain-killing drugs that were available. Sadly his Mother was suffering an increasing painful experience as the illness slowly took a hold.

   “Why can’t you put her out of her misery? Just administer a drug that will allow her to slowly drift away from life, pain-free.” He begged the Doctors when they arrived to carry out a ward round.


    “Sorry Sir this is against the law and against our sworn code of ethics. This would be a contravention of the Hippocratic oath. Euthanasia is strictly illegal.” replied the Consultant.

  William just shed tears and ran from the ward, holding a hanky to his nose. A nurse followed him out;  “Come back!”

   William fled, visibly sobbing;  blowing his nose which sounded like a fog horn blasting out a warning on a foggy night.

    William rushed out into the hospital road and jumped back quickly as an ambulance driver sounded his horn.

   “Look where you are going!” came a shout from the driver.

     Jumping in his car William picked up a golden horn that was lying on the back seat and ceremoniously played the Last Post. An accomplished musician he was expressing deep feelings of anger and frustration the only way he could.

   Then he pulled himself together and picking up a parcel that he had left on the back seat earlier he returned to the ward, to find his Mother in a deep sleep. Her hair had been neatly combed by one of the nurses. Her personal comb made from horn, that was her pride and joy lay on the bedside table.

   His Mother woke shortly after and William unwrapped his parcel which was an ornamental horn, fashioned out of pure elephant ivory. Mothers eyes lit up;  even with the pain that was visibly racking through her body. The horned ornament was a small container filled with her favourite sherry. They both looked into each other’s eyes and made new bonds, a silent toast that loosened, yet cemented the life they had shared.

    William left the ward with tears in his eyes, knowing he would never see his Mother again.

  She just drifted away in the night peacefully,  William was glad she had gone naturally and was out if pain at last.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved


30th November 2016 ~ Poetry Challenge ~ Day 30

2016 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 30
By: Robert Lee Brewer ~ November 30, 2016

Today’s our last chance to poem for November 2016. Tomorrow, I’ll post next steps for this challenge, which involves going through poems written throughout the month. But today…

Write a last chance poem. The poem could be about having a final chance at something, whether it’s writing a poem, saying goodbye, or singing a song. Or it could be about a famous last chance that’s already occurred. Whatever strikes your fancy, this truly is our last chance for November 2016.


image courtesy of pixabay.com


(A villanelle structured poem)

by John Yeo

We squeeze every effort in life’s entrance,
Developing quickly in others hands;
Then it’s almost time to snatch a last chance.

Discovery through childhoods playful dance,
Following instinct as our mind expands;
We squeeze every effort in life’s entrance.

Soaking experience with love to enhance,
Excitement from living and making plans;
Then it’s almost time to snatch a last chance.

Speed and vibrancy and life’s happy dance,
The helter-skelter, a whirlwind demands;
We squeeze every effort in life’s entrance.

We live with grace, drifting, shifting, times sands;
Love and Laughter as age understands.
We squeeze every effort in life’s entrance,
Then it’s almost time to snatch a last chance.  


Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

29th November 2016 ~ Poetry Challenge ~ Day 29

2016 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 29
By: Robert Lee Brewer ~ November 29, 2016

For today’s prompt, we’re once again doing two-for-Tuesday prompt. So pick one, combine both prompts into one poem, or write two (or more) different poems. Here are the prompts:

Write a love poem. A poem about love, people who are in love, attempting to woo, or some other lovely spin on the subject. Or…
Write an anti-love poem. I know that for every lover there’s an equally powerful hater.


Image © Copyright John and Margaret


by John Yeo

Many strangers head for a life under sail,
To enjoy a relaxing luxurious getaway;
The itinerary, always an exhilarating delight.
A menu of exciting destinations to visit,
Historical, tropical, a feast of adventure.
Life-changing romance on the high seas.

How did our love for each other arise?
Our first warm meeting on a turbulent sea;
Recapturing the moment when love came to call,
Altering both our futures irrevocably.
We boarded the ship to a sail-away welcome,
Infectious excitement as the ship pulled away.

When our paths crossed for the very first time,
Our present cruise quickly became our future;
We found ourselves when we found each other.
Our love changed our lives, growing closely together,
We became friends who slowly became lovers.
Inseparable lovers always happy together.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.


Image © Copyright John and Margaret


by John Yeo

It is difficult for someone who is deeply in love
To write anti-love poetry.
It is hard to imagine a life without love.
If you haven’t been hurt irrevocably.

It is impossible for one who is warmly in love
To understand hurt and despair.
To have your feelings spat back in your face
To have been abandoned without a care.

It is hard to portray hate with a heart full of love
Hatred that burns slowly and surely
A battered heart that is full of fear
With shattered trust and vulnerability.

Feelings of trust with a sure strong love
Seem far from drawing real empathy
With the shock of rejection and sadness
That follow the sad blows of a hateful reality.


Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

16th November 2016 ~ Poetry Challenge ~ Day 16

2016 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 16
By: Robert Lee Brewer ~ November 16, 2016

For today’s prompt, take the phrase “Play (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then write the poem. Possible titles include: “Play Nice,” “Play Fair,” “Play Hard,” “Play the Guitar,” etc.

I have written two poems today, both a hard and a soft approach to the prompt. Margaret likes both and I decided to publish both. 


Image courtesy of pixabay.com


by John Yeo

“You’re Fired! Get out!”
“Security, show him the door.
Call the police, throw him out,
We can’t afford him anymore.
We hired him to work on trust
To secure our reputation.
We needed a profitable thrust
Without financial complication.
He played the market recklessly
Defying warnings along the way.
Living a financial fantasy,
Gambling past futures away;
The bank could come to grief
We will never recover completely,
The man is a foolish lying thief
Playing the market with our money.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved


Image courtesy of pixabay.com


by John Yeo

Red and golden autumn leaves, fluttering wildly in the breeze.
Kick them into piles and laugh, pile them up and play castles.
Yellow and brown leaves mingling freely, together with golden red.
Help to pile them higher and higher, tomorrow we’ll light a bonfire.

After breakfast we sit on a log as Daddy prepares the bonfire.
“Jenny suddenly shouts “Stop! Please wait, move the leaves away.”
Surprisingly underneath the heap a baby hedgehog has made a home.
Jenny says, “Can we keep it Dad?” cuddling the soft spines closely.


Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved


10th November 2016 ~ Poetry Challenge ~ Day 10

2016 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 10
By: Robert Lee Brewer ~ November 10 2016

For today’s prompt, write a tragic poem. Two courses of action here: Write a poem that is heavy, or write a poem that is light. Or write a poem that could be heavy or light. For instance, a tragedy could be Shakespeare’s Hamlet or a bad hair day.


Image © Copyright John and Margaret


by John Yeo

Tragedy a situation that can be woven into verse?
Not a difficult question for the power of the pen.
Read the question closely, memorise every word.
Take whatever comes into mind and spin it.
I remember a friend I made on the internet once,
A creative poet with a magical mind.
I would wake every day and devour his work
Then we would take time, to greet each other.


The poetic spells he had woven overnight
Were gems of wisdom and poetic thought.
With the communication of his imagination
He became a friend, a guide and an inspiration.
Slowly his verse became darker and darker;
My friend was living on borrowed time.
A terminal evil began to darken his verse
As he described in poetry his fight for life.


One deep, black moment before the dawn,
I looked for my friend but his magic was gone.
Gone to new horizons to record infinity,
A comet travelling through the universe
Swamped in the starmud of eternal time.
As dawn suffocated the starlight completely
I knew my friend had breathed his last.
Leaving a brilliant legacy of poetic tragedy.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.

4th November 2016 ~ Poetry Challenge ~ Day 4

2016 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 4
By: Robert Lee Brewer ~ November 4, 2016

For today’s prompt, write an imagined life poem. The imagined life could be your own or imagining a life for someone else–like a person you see at the bus stop, grocery store, or library. If for yourself, the imagined life might be another possible parallel outcome or a possible future (for better or worse).

There is a strange difficulty in trying to understand and relate to another person’s life. Peace ☮️ 🎎


Image supplied by pixabay.com



by John Yeo

Everyone calls him Tom, who really cares?
He stands  with his hand out every day
Never says a  word, just stands, and stares.
On  the same  corner of the highway.

I always put a coin in his hand as I passed,
He never smiled, just stared straight ahead.
I often wondered about his life in the past
One day I caught his eye and I said.

“I know who you are, It was a mystery.
I think you are certainly out of place
I have  weaved your life into a history
The fall must have hurt but it’s no disgrace.”

Tom looked shocked and angry.
For the first time ever, he actually spoke.
“I  beg for food as I’m hungry!
I was wealthy once but now I’m broke.”

The voice was nervous and cultured
Betraying the roots of  fine living.
I had guessed a good life was ruptured
Destroyed by cruel fate, unforgiving

“I have written  a new turn for your story .”
I said as I put a coin in his hand.
“You will now be covered in glory
I am a writer you understand.”

Everyone called him Tom, who really cared?
He stood  with his hand out every day
Never said a  word, just stood and stared.
On  the same corner of the highway.

The original Tom was a sad mystery.
An unhappy life confined to history.

Copyright © written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.


2nd November 2016 ~ Poetry Challenge ~ Day 2

2016 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 2
By: Robert Lee Brewer ~ November 2, 2016

For today’s prompt, write an animal spirit poem (or spirit animal poem). What I’m thinking is to make the title of the poem the animal and then write a poem as if you are that animal. Or look at ways you identify with that animal. Another possibility (if this is too New Age): Write a poem about an animal. Period.


WARNING ~ The poem that follows will make you feel uneasy. If you are upset by Nature “Red in Tooth and Claw” ~ Look away now!


Free Image Courtesy of Pixabay.com


by John Yeo

The day started clear with a thin fine mist.
I left the den in the early light.

Gambolling and chasing my fellow cubs.
Father came back with a rabbit.

We feasted well, tearing the fur and the flesh,
I got in trouble for spilling fresh blood,
All over my bushy red tail.
The rabbit’s fur blew away in the wind.
Then came the fearful sound of a horn
With hounds snarling and yelping.
Barking fiercely in the morning mist
A fearful sound that we hated.
The vixen, my mother, led us away
Father ran into the  hunters.

My fearful father ran for his life,

The hounds caught his scent and gave chase.
We watched the hunters on horseback,
Following the hounds to enjoy the kill.
My exhausted father dropped to the ground
The pack tore his soul to pieces.
Tearing his fur and flesh apart,

Spilling his blood all over their fur,
My mother the vixen led us away,
With tears, that would soon be abated.
My father’s red fur blew away with the wind.


Copyright © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.